


My Grumpy Valentine

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Set in Storybrooke, Canon Divergent [35]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9726845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Robin sets out to make Regina smile on Valentine's Day.





	

Regina smiles as she pushes her way into the diner and her eyes fall to Robin and the kids waiting for her in their usual booth. They all have menus out in front of them; Henry is holding Esme in his lap, playing with her hands as she giggles and Roland is sitting on his knees holding a big pink foam heart. As she neared she hears Roland telling a story of how they’d had a special Valentine’s art class, and as she slides into the booth he announces that he’s settled on Sweet Tarts for his contribution to his class’s Valentine’s party later that week.

She feels Robin’s eyes slide to her as she sits down beside Henry and pulls Esme into her lap, dotting a few quick kisses atop the little girl’s head. Esme turns her head to face her, giggling and scrunching her nose as her little feet kick excitedly—and when Regina looks back up, Roland and Robin are looking at her, and a smirk pulls onto Henry’s lips. It’s obvious that she’s missed something.

“Mom doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day,” Henry says slowly as she looks between them all.

“What do you mean you don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day?” Roland asks with widening eyes. “Valentine’s is the _fourth_ best holiday of the year!”

“The fourth, hm?”

“Well, Christmas is obviously the best,” Roland tells her in a very serious voice. “Then Halloween and then Thanksgiving and then…”

“Valentine’s Day,” Regina supplies. “Why?”

“The candy,” he says, as though it should be obvious. “How can you not like a holiday that’s all about candy?”

Henry chuckles a little as he leaned forward. “She says it’s not a real holiday.”

“Because it’s not,” she tells them plainly, her voice piquing defensively as she looks between the boys. “It’s a Hallmark Holiday.”

“A _Hallmark_ Holiday?” Robin asks, his brow creasing as his head tips to the side. “Like… a distinguishable holiday? Or one of high quality?” He shakes his head, not understanding. “If you don’t like the holiday, how would it be a hallmark?”

“It’s… a card company,” Regina supplies, bristling a bit as she shifts Esme on her lap, “Hallmark is a company that makes money off of greeting cards for holidays. So the more holidays that are celebrated, the more money they make.”

“Oh…”

“Storybrooke doesn’t have one,” Henry adds. “So, don’t feel too bad. I didn’t get it either until I was like… eight.”

Regina’s eyes roll. “So you’ve _never_ celebrated Valentine’s Day?” Roland asks with an exasperated little scoff. “Not _ever_? Not even _one_ time?”

“Well, when Henry was little, I’d…”

“That doesn’t count,” Henry cuts in. “You buying me candy and making me a special breakfast happened all the time.” A grin pulls onto his lips as Esme tugs on Regina’s napkin. “The only difference was that the pancakes were heart-shaped.”

“I just… I think these sorts of holidays are for children.” Robin’s eyes narrow as her shoulders square a bit uncomfortably. “Not adults.”

“I… could be wrong,” Robin begins in a tentative voice. “But, isn’t Valentine’s Day, in this realm at least, supposed to be a… celebration of love, is it not?”

“Yes,” Henry answers. “It is.”

Once more, Regina’s eyes roll. “Well, I… love my children…”

“I love you, too,” Roland says, almost automatically, as a little grin edges onto his lips—completely missing the point Robin was trying to make. Henry sighs as he leans back in the booth; and Robin’s eyes fall to Regina’s hands, watching the way her fingers stroke absently over Esme’s foot—something he’s come to realize she does when _she’s_ searching comfort—and before he can say or ask anymore about Valentine’s Day, Ruby is bringing their food and their conversation shifts to other things.

_____

For whatever reason, Robin can’t let go of his sudden fascination with Valentine’s Day—and as he usually did when he found himself baffled by something in the modern world they lived in, he finds his head popping into Henry’s room to inquire. Henry’s eyebrow arches as he waves him in, chuckling softly as though he’d been waiting.

“So, this Valentine’s thing,” Robin began, shutting the door behind himself. “It’s… a big deal to most people.”

“Well,” Henry says, folding his legs beneath himself to make room on his bed for Robin to sit. “Girls usually are into it.”

“Girls…”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Like, my grandma for example… has been dropping hints about what grandpa should do for weeks.” He grins. “They’re going to dinner at a fancy restaurant and Granny’s babysitting Neal,” he pauses as a little chuckle rises into his voice. “And like five other kids.”

“But that… happens all of the time,” Robin says. “Them going to dinner…”

“Well, yeah,” Henry says again. “But… this is somehow… more special.”

“Special…”

Henry nods. “Like, they’ll eat strawberry shortcake and drink pink champagne and… I don’t know… he’ll probably get her a heart-shaped box of candy or something.”

“I’ve seen those…”

“And grandma’s been making this coupon book for grandpa with scrapbooking paper and stickers.”

“Coupons,” Robin says, as his eyes narrow. “For… what? Groceries?”

“No,” Henry laughs. “For things she can do for him… like… one is for a foot massage and another is for her to make his favorite dinner…” Henry’s shoulders shrug as Robin’s brow furrows deeper. “Those sorts of things.”

“And your mom… doesn’t… like those things…”

Henry hesitates. “I don’t really know. It was always just me and her, and she always liked when I made her a card or some crafty thing in school, but… she liked those things whenever I made them, not just for Valentine’s Day,” he says. “And, I don’t really remember her ever... going on dates or anything like that when I was growing up.” Robin nods. “I… don’t really know what things were like before she adopted me, but she never mentioned a boyfriend or anything… except Graham, but… that… wasn’t really…” Henry’s nose scrunches. “It wasn’t like it is with you. They weren’t like… a couple, really. He didn’t come over for holidays or take her out or… anything like that.”  


“So, it’s safe to say she’s never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Robin murmurs. “So, she doesn’t really know how she feels about it.”

“Right…”

A grin pulls onto his lips. “Henry,” he begins after a moment. “While you’re at school tomorrow, would it be okay if I used your computer? I… think I want to know more about this Valentine’s thing.”

“Of course,” Henry says with an easy nod. “Do I need to show you how to use it again?”

“Please,” Robin replies without hesitation, as Henry reaches for the laptop at his side and draws it into his lap. “That thing will never fail to baffle me.”

Henry sighs and for a few minutes, they sit together, going through the basics. Robin takes notes and Henry goes slowly—and when he hears the shower down the hall turn off, they decide to call it a night. Robin offers an appreciative grin as he sets Henry’s laptop onto the night stand and turns off the light, murmuring wishes sound sleep and happy dreams, before closing the boy’s door and padding down the hall.

When he slips into the bedroom Regina is sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing pajamas and towel drying her hair. He grins a little as watches her—carefully to ensure that she doesn’t notice him tucking Henry’s notes into his pocket.

“Where were you?” She murmurs, not looking up at him as she works her fingers through her hair. “Given that you were in bed when I got in the shower, I expected you to be asleep.” She grins up at him for a moment. “Or at the very least still here.”

“Oh, I was talking to Henry.”

“You were… talking to Henry,” she repeats in a skeptical voice as her eyes narrow. “About what?”

Robin blinks and his grin grows coy. “Is that not allowed?”

“No, it’s just… the last time you and Henry were having secret little chats in his bedroom, you were conspiring against me,” her eye brow arches, “And then three days later, we were all bringing Tabitha home from the shelter.”

“You love that cat.”

“I do,” she agrees. “But that’s not the point.” 

Sitting down beside her, he leans in and kisses her cheek. “You’re right,” he tells her. “It’s not.”

“So what were you two talking about?”

“Guy stuff.”

“Guy stuff…”

“Yup,” he tells her, simply not offering any more detail—but very much enjoy the way she becomes flustered.  “Now,” he murmurs, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it in the direction of the hamper. “I have a question for you.” She rolls her eyes at his obvious deflection, but nonetheless looks to him—her eyes softening as his grin warms. “Do you really not have any interest in Valentine’s Day?”

“None,” she says flatly.  

“Not even just a lit…”

“ _No_ ,” she cuts in.

“Okay,” he tells her with a sigh as he rolls over to his side of the bed—and a grin pulls onto his lips.

____

Regina bristled as she walks toward her office, not trying to conceal her eye roll as she notices the giant heart-shaped pink balloon tied to her secretary’s desk chair and the assortment of red and white carnations in a cheap vase at the desk’s corner. Moving past her, she ignores the soft ‘good morning,’ as she opens her office door—and almost instantly, she stops cold.

Swallowing hard, she blinks a couple of times as she stares at the arrangement on her desk. In a clear, teardrop-shaped vase are roses—mostly red with a couple of white, yellow and pink mixed between them—and from a ribbon that’s tied around the vase, hangs a note card. She hesitates for a moment before setting her purse down on the chair across from her desk and slowly, she reaches for the card—and when she does, she sees Robin’s writing, and she can’t help but allow a little smile to tug up at the corners of her mouth.

_Regina—_

_I know you said this holiday didn’t mean much to you, that you were uninterested in celebrating it, that it was nothing more than a “Hallmark holiday.” But, what can I say? I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, and I just couldn’t help myself._

_The red roses are obvious—they symbolize my deep love for you; the white roses symbolize unity and new beginnings, and so they symbolize our life together. The yellow roses are for the friendship that’s blossomed alongside our love, and the pink symbolize the admiration I have for you—your grace and your strength, and the way you love with all your being. And of course, I would be remiss not to point out the ferns, a symbol of the magic that comes with the bond of true love._

_Happy Valentine’s Day, love._

_-Robin_

Dropping the card, she exhales a long breath, slowly traces her finger over the edge of one of the red roses—and she feels her cheeks flushing.

She situates the vase on her desk and every now and then, she catches herself looking up at the roses—looking up at them and smiling as she goes over monthly budget reports and plans an agenda for the next Town Hall Meeting. Despite the tediousness of her tasks, the morning goes by quickly, and when a light knock comes at her office door, she’s caught off-guard by the fact that it’s nearly noon and nearly lunchtime.

“Madam Mayor,” her secretary says, poking her head in. “Your lunch is here.”

Regina’s brow creases. “I didn’t order lunch.”

“Well… this just arrived,” she says, stepping in with a brown paper bag in hand. “It’s from Granny’s.”

“ _But I didn’t_ …”

“This came with it,” her secretary says, holding up a little red envelope—and again, Regina recognizes Robin’s writing.

Stepping around her desk, she takes the bag and says curt ‘thank you’ as the door closes. She carries the bag and envelope to her desk and sets them down, looking between them before momentarily before slipping her finger beneath the envelope’s seal. She pulls out a simple white card with a sparkly red heart in the center, and when she opens it, her breath catches in her chest and she can’t help but laugh out—and the words to the chorus of _Because You Loved Me_ fills the room.

Shaking her head, her eyes roll, but she smiles nonetheless as she reaches Robin’s note— _For lunch, enjoy a sweet, Valentine’s treat,_ it read—and then, a little reluctantly she closes the card and reaches into the bag, and almost instantly she knows what’s inside. A knowing smile curls onto her lips as opens the container to find Granny’s famous Apple Crisp a la Mode—her favorite guilty pleasure—and she can’t help but notice Robin ordered her an extra scoop of French vanilla ice cream.

Just as instructed she enjoys the warm cinnamon apples and milky ice cream, eating it as slowly as possible as if to savor every last bite. She sighs regretfully when it’s gone, turning unenthusiastically back to her computer to finalize the agenda for the Town Hall and she lets her thoughts wander to Robin and the way she can repay him for his sweetness…

It’s nearly four-thirty when she’s packing up her bag—thoughts of Robin still swimming through her head—when her office door again opens, and her secretary steps in.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she begins. “I know you’re getting ready to leave for the day but…” Her voice trails off and she holds up a little box. “But, um, this just came for you.” Regina blinks at the box—plain brown and tied with twine—and she nods, feeling a rush of emotion that she can’t help but think is a bit unwarranted. Her secretary just stares at her, likely baffled by the mayor’s sudden tears. “I’ll just, um… leave it,” she says, a bit awkwardly, quickly walking it over to the table then leaving.

Regina stares at the box for a moment and then goes to sit in front of it—for so long, she’s avoided this day. She’s made brusque generalizations and rolled her eyes with an air of indifference, chided the happy couples who giggled together over completely predictable festivities—and she somewhere along the way, she’d convinced herself that didn’t care. For so long this day as merely served as a reminder of everything she didn’t have—a mockery that she’d refused to acknowledge—and _now_ , a reminder of all she’d gained, earned or not.

Taking a breath, she goes toward the box, slowly tugging at the twine and pulling away the paper. Behind the paper is a white cardboard box—the sort of box you’d get at a bakery—and for a moment, she expects another sweet something. But instead she finds something that’s an entirely different sort of sweet—a round little woolen lamb wearing a heart-shaped bell on a ribbon around its neck. She smiles and strokes the soft fur of stuffed animal—her smiles deepening as she pulls a note from the ribbon and once more, she inhales a breath, slowly releasing it as she looks down at Robin’s writing…

_Regina—_

_This gift has no rhyme or reason. When I was buying the singing card, I saw him and… there was no way I couldn’t buy him. He’s soft and cuddly, cute and warm, and I wanted you to have him._

_When you leave work, go home and change—I’ve got a couple more surprises planned for you. Choose warm things—pants, not a skirt; boots, not heels—and meet me in the spot we shared our first kiss._

_I’ll be waiting._

_-Robin_

Her heart skips a beat as she leaves her office and her stomach flips and flops the whole way home. She lets herself in and quickly goes upstairs to change—and when she enters the bedroom, there’s a little box on the bed. It’s red satin and topped with a little white bow—and again, she feels a rush of emotion. Looking around the bed, she doesn’t see a note; so, she reaches for the box—a box that’s obviously jewelry—and she laughs a little to herself, unable to believe that she’s actually enjoying all of this—or that she has it to enjoy.

_____

He can see her coming from a distance.

He stokes the fire a few more times, letting the flame rise up as she nears—and then a smile creeps onto his lips as he watches her come closer. Just as he’d hoped, she was dressed appropriately—a thick sweater and a down vest, jeans and tall boots—her hair is pulled back and he could see the ruby earrings that he’d gotten her.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she calls out as soon as she’s near enough. “You know how I feel about Valentine’s.”

“I know,” he says with a nod, as he leans in to peck her lips. “But I wanted to spoil you a little bit.”

She sighs and her eyes roll, but nonetheless a little grin tugs up from the corners of her mouth. “The earrings are beautiful, by the way.”

A soft chuckle rises into his voice. “I… just couldn’t bring myself to get you a heart-shaped necklace or…”

“You did good with these,” she cuts in. “I love them, and I wouldn’t have worn anything heart-shaped… and then I would have felt bad about it.” Her cheeks flush a little as his hand settles on her hip. “I… do feel a little bad about not having anything for you. I didn’t expect…”

“Nonsense,” he interjects as his smile brightens. “You have no idea how much _I’ve_ enjoyed planning today.” He laughs a little. “And I had no idea whether you’d be smitten or annoyed, so I am pleasantly surprised to see you smiling.”

“I… am… not annoyed,” she says, a little shyly. “It’s been… nice.”

Leaning in, he captures her lips between his, kissing her softly and gently, in a way that’s unassuming. She presses closer as her hand slides over his stubbly cheek—and then, he spins himself away from her. “I don’t want to burn the goose.”

Regina blinks as her eyes follow him. “The goose.”

“Dinner,” Robin says with a nod, looking back over his shoulder and watching a grin stretch over her lips. “You remember…” he murmurs, as she nods—and for a brief moment, he thinks back to one of the first nights he’d known her, remembering her caution when he and the Merry Men had invited her and the others back to camp and prepared a feast for them—and when his eyes meet hers, he can see the same flicker of nostalgia that he’s feeling reflected in her eyes. “Come here,” he says, holding out his hand. “I have something for you while we wait.”

“Something else?” She asks, shifting a bit uncomfortably. “I… don’t know what I’ve done to deserve all of this.”

He blinks—and he knows there’s more to that statement than the obvious sentiment. His fingers fold around hers as he leads her over to one of the logs in front of the fire, and together they sit. He drapes a blanket around her shoulders and wraps his arm around her waist beneath the blanket—and he reaches for a little bag, then drops it into her lap.

“You really didn’t have to…”

“It’s nothing.”

“That’s not true.”

He grins and taps his fingers against the bag, urging her to open it. “This one we can both enjoy.”

Regina’s lip catches between her teeth and he watches her carefully, watching the way she tentatively reaches into the bag and smiling as a soft laugh rises from her chest. “Chocolates,” she says as she pulls a heart-shaped box of candies from it. Her fingers trace over the red-metallic paper that covers the box and he hears her breath hitch, and he watches as her smile fades a little, not because she’s unhappy but because she is. “You… thought of everything.”

“I did my research,” he tells her, leaning in a pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“You _don’t_ have to do this every year, you know.”

“Suppose I want to?”

She sighs as her eyes roll—but nonetheless, she leans in and brushes her lips over his, rubbing the tip of her nose against his as her fingers thread through his hair.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” he murmurs, just before she presses closer to kiss him.


End file.
